


hell-raising (don't need saving)

by growlery writes (growlery)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Fuckbuddies, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery%20writes
Summary: Being a werewolf is hard, and not just in the ways people warned Raven about. Luckily for her, Bellamy's more than willing to help.





	hell-raising (don't need saving)

**Author's Note:**

> there was possibly a vague semblance of plot when I started this months and months and months ago. possibly. it's all porn now and I make no apologies.

The morning after Raven's first full moon, she finds herself waking up in Bellamy's bed.

Miller told her that it would feel like the worst hangover she's ever had, that she would feel the impacts of her bones fracturing and reforming for months and months until her body got used to the change, but he never told her about this.

It's different for him, she supposes, with not a little bitterness. _He_ has a pack.

Still. She wishes she'd been prepared for this. She knew she was in Bellamy's apartment before she even opened her eyes, was assaulted by the smell of him as soon as she gained consciousness. The heightened senses is another thing she won't get used to for a while, Miller told her, and Raven snapped her teeth at him and smiled sharply when he grinned at her. His pack won't accept her, can't accept her, not until she loses the scent of the wolf who turned her, so for now, she's on her own.

Which is just- fine. It's fine. Raven doesn't need anyone. She can get through this on her own.

Apparently, her new wolf brain doesn't agree. Raven doesn't remember how she ended up at Bellamy's, but she definitely didn't start the night here. She remembers running, slowed by the brace on her leg but still moving faster than she's ever been able to before. She remembers flashes of the bright white moon and the solid ache in her chest for home, _home,_ not a place but a person who'd betrayed her with a terrible careless bite.

She sits up abruptly, barely hissing at the pain, not because it doesn't hurt but because the hurt isn't anything new. Bellamy's not in the bed with her, and she's nearly certain he wasn't before she woke up. Raven frowns. He's definitely here – she can _smell_ him, and it might be driving her slowly mad, just a little.

There are clean clothes in a neat, folded pile at the bottom of the bed that might be for her, but Raven doesn't put on anything but her brace. She pads out of the room and finds Bellamy in the kitchen, at the stove with a frying pan.

He turns when he hears her coming, and starts to say something, but gets stuck somewhere around her bare chest. She feels his arousal spike, smells desire all over him, and her stomach drops.

“Uh,” he says, then shakes his head a little, bringing his gaze firmly back up to her face. “I thought you'd be hungry.”

“Starving,” Raven says, and comes to peer at the contents of the frying pan. She inhales, deep, and makes a contented noise in her throat. Bellamy flicks a gaze at her, amused.

"Miller said as much," he says. "I've got more bacon and eggs ready to go when this is done."

Raven tilts her head sideways to rest on his shoulder, silent thanks.

"Did he warn you about this?" She doesn’t need to specify. It's obvious what she means.

Bellamy's quiet for a second, staring down at the pan, and then he says, "Not in so many words. He did say you'd be drawn to somewhere you felt safe."

Raven looks away. She's not wearing a stitch of clothing, and she suddenly feels every inch of her nakedness. Her wolf wanted to come home, and it led her all the way to Bellamy.

"I always feel safe with the promise of free food," she says, purposefully light, and Bellamy laughs.

He heaps bacon and eggs on a plate for her and then returns to the frying pan to cook some more, as promised, which is just as well since Raven's still got a gaping hole instead of a stomach when she's finished the first serving. He gets a third one going, then a fourth, then finally comes to sit next to her, sipping a cup of coffee he poured for himself while she finishes eating. He glances over at her when she's done, and Raven feels his arousal spike again, and she should be more prepared to handle it, this time, but she has a better vantage point for the freckles on his face, his morning-rumpled hair, his long fingers clasping his cup.

"Okay, seriously," Raven starts, "has Miller ever mentioned anything about wolfing out making you unbearably fucking horny?"

Bellamy, because he is a terrible, awful friend, laughs at her. "You're getting that, huh."

"You could've fucking warned me, asshole."

Bellamy shrugs. "It doesn't happen to everyone," he says. "Miller got it pretty bad. I used to help him out with it, before he met Monty."

Raven raises her eyebrows. "Do you think you could help me out with it?" she says, before she can think it through, but she doesn't regret it. Bellamy's one of her closest friends, and she trusts him, and her wolf thinks he's safe. There are definitely worse people she could ask.

Bellamy smells- weird. Raven can't identify it, can't pick out what the different notes mean just yet. She tries not to linger on it. It's probably weird to be able to extract that kind of information from someone, even if it's unconscious and Bellamy knows she's doing it.

"Sure," Bellamy says. "That'd be- if you wanted, I mean. I could help."

"Could you help me right now," Raven says, "because I haven't been this frustrated since I was a teenager and I'd quite like some orgasms."

"Coming right up," Bellamy says, grinning at his own awful pun, and Raven knows in her heart that she made the right choice.

"That," she says, crossing over to his side of the table, "was," she continues, getting into his lap, "terrible," she finishes, rolling her hips downwards. Bellamy grips her hips satisfyingly hard, pulling her into him, and she leans down to catch his mouth in a kiss.

"I can feel how much it's bothering you," he says, smirking, which, whatever, he can't take any credit for the wetness between her legs. That's all the wolf, and how much it's enjoying how good Bellamy smells. "Are you just gonna rub off on my leg?"

"Unless you have a problem with that," Raven says, and Bellamy runs his hands up her back, digging his nails in in a way that makes Raven arch her back, breathe out a moan.

"Not at all," he says, low. "What do you want me to do?"

"That," she says, "but harder," and he complies, scratching so deep into her skin it'll surely leave marks. She rolls her hips down every time he drags his nails down, and he catches on quickly, scratching faster, pulling her down with him until she comes with a shout.

Head dropping to his chest, she pants out long breaths, riding out the aftershocks in her still spread legs. She's shaking for a good ten minutes; increased sensitivity apparently affects that, too. Bellamy turns his head, presses a kiss to her collarbone.

"So you said _some orgasms_ ," he says, "as in more than one."

"Fuck yeah," Raven says, only it sounds more like a moan, mangled and hoarse.

"I have a bed, you know," Bellamy says. "We don't have to do this here."

"I do know," Raven says, "I slept on it last night." This isn't the time to ask, probably, but sleeping with Bellamy didn't exactly figure in Raven's life plan before today. Maybe it's exactly the right time. "And you didn't."

Bellamy shrugs. "You'd shifted back by the time you got here," he says, "but you were still more wolf than human. I figured you'd feel more comfortable by yourself, so I put you to bed and slept on the sofa."

"That was silly," Raven says, frowning. "Your sofa is old as balls, and not in the comfy way."

"Still," Bellamy says, and Raven rolls her eyes.

"Still nothing, Bellamy. I don't mind, and I'm pretty sure my wolf doesn't either or I wouldn't be here." She clears her throat, looks down. "But if you mind-"

"I don't," Bellamy says, and Raven breathes out.

"Let me know if you start," she says, then, quickly, "So you said something about bed? I kind of want you to fuck me, and that'd be easier if we got your bed involved."

She's starting to really enjoy feeling Bellamy's arousal, especially since she can fist her hand in his hair and pull him up to meet her mouth. He kisses her for a few seconds, then pulls back and says, a bit gravelly, "Yeah, bed, yeah."

He's pulling off his clothes before they've even reached his room, kicking off his trousers as Raven drags him by the wrist down to the bed, climbs on top of him. They're touching all the way down their bodies, skin flush against skin. Raven is burning all over. She wants to be closer, but they're as close as they can be without her literally climbing inside him. If that sounds kind of appealing right now, well, being a werewolf is weird. She's not gonna analyse it too much.

“Okay?” she asks, and Bellamy nods, swallows, turns his head to press a kiss to her neck. Her eyes close, and she sighs. “Bite.” His teeth graze her neck, barely digging in, and she sighs again. “You know you're not going to hurt me. _Bite_.”

Bellamy bites down. It sears through her, pleasure pain tinged with raw fury, and she throws her neck back, silently urging him to keep going. She grabs him by the wrists, holds down, fucks down on him to the beat of her pounding heart. He surges up against her, and it's good, it's _good_ , but something's off. She doesn't know what it is, if it's the rhythm or the angle, constant ache inside of her for more, but she makes a noise, half cry, half growl, her grip tightening on Bellamy.

“That,” he says, pupils blown, breathing ragged, “is really fucking hot.”

“Glad you're enjoying my pain,” she says, and Bellamy nips her neck, licks over the skin, presses in a gentle kiss.

“I'm enjoying it a lot,” he says. Raven feels something in her mount, crest, start to overflow, and it's not another orgasm, but she thinks she'll like it all the same. She picks up the pace, rolls her hips relentlessly until the amusement is gone from Bellamy's face and it's just helpless want, until he's just breathing on her neck, gasping out what sounds like her name, over and over.

“Fuck,” he says, “fuck, Raven, I-”

“Come for me,” she says, and it's definitely her name, drawn out of him like a desperate prayer. His face is full of so much, so open it hurts to look at, and Raven isn't brave or strong at all. She drops her head to his chest, keeps moving til Bellamy stops moaning, goes pliant underneath her.

She doesn't think she can look at him yet. She also doesn't want to move off of him yet. She sweeps her nose over his collarbone – she absolutely refuses to think of it as “nuzzling” – and strokes fingers over the pulse points in Bellamy's wrists.

“Raven,” Bellamy says. Her name sounds normal again, like it's always done coming from Bellamy's mouth, and she lifts her head. Bellamy's smiling, a lazy, satisfied thing, and Raven smirks back at him.

“You're welcome,” she says, and he doesn't roll his eyes like she expects him to, make a jibe about him doing half the work too, you know. He just keeps smiling at her, and Raven can't help herself, smiles back at him.

“So you should go down on me,” she tells him, delighting in his instant spike of arousal, “but first, come here.”

She wraps her arms around him and tugs, rolling them both onto their side so they're facing each other. Bellamy kisses her nose, slings an arm across her body, and Raven's wolf never wants to move.


End file.
